


Strange Combinations

by witchway



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crack Fic, Cuddling & Snuggling, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Other, Polyamory, Porn Without Plot, Science Boyfriends, Threeways, Why Did I Write This?, cuddling and snuggling with the wrong person, why not?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-25 19:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30093846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchway/pseuds/witchway
Summary: This Is Not A StoryThis Is Three Weasels Wearing A Trench coatEnjoy It For What It Is
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Peter Parker, Peter Parker/Tony Stark, Tony Stark/Bruce Banner, Tony Stark/Bruce Banner/Peter Parker
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	1. Belonging

Tony’s bed was huge. And strangely silent. It struck Peter as odd that Tony would get quiet...now...after all that talking, pleading his case on the balcony? Who knew?

Also, Peter kind of wished there had been more kissing.

But he had no other complaints as he lay face down against Tony’s very expensive sheets. Tony’s cock was huge, just as he had hoped, and the man didn’t lie, he _could_ go on forever. And he _did_ ask, more than once, if Peter was enjoying himself.

“Does that feel good baby?” “Oh _god_ yes, please don’t stop.” Over and over again. Tony seemed distracted, as if he weren’t really there, naked except for his shirt, his head constantly turning to the right even as the rest of his body seemed intent in pounding Peter into the mattress. Peter politely kept his face pressed to the bed and ignored it, choosing to concentrate instead on the fact that he was being thoroughly and utterly fucked by one Tony Stark.

But then he came, calling Peter’s name in a choked voice and Peter realized it was all worth it.

“ _Damn_ kid,” he sighed as he pulled away from Peter’s body, causing Peter to grin from ear to ear. He smiled up at the man who smiled back, and for a moment they panted and grinned together, forehead to forehead, in silence.

Then Tony rose enough to flip Peter over on his back, which Peter allowed, although it made him giggle. Even more when Tony rose to his knees and flipped him over again, until Peter, giggling and feeling ridiculous and silly, was being rolled across Tony’s impossibly big bed and into Bruce’s arms.

Bruce was smiling too, but then he kissed Peter and the smiling was over. Wrapped up in the Bruce’s embrace, feeling Bruce’s hands tangled in his hair, Peter moaned and relaxed into the kiss.

He _had_ suspected that Bruce was the romantic, and he wasn’t disappointed. The kiss was tender while the hands were never still, touching Peter’s face and running up his sides and sneaking under to cup his ass and then stroke the small of his back. Bruce placed kisses up and down his neck, his shoulder, slipping his tongue behind Peter’s ear and nibbling on his earlobe. And Peter…

…Peter found himself watching Tony.

He shouldn’t, of course. He had been very _good_ at pretending Bruce wasn’t there when it was Tony’s turn with him, but now? Knowing Tony was close by, knowing that Tony was watching them?? Tony was impossible to ignore.

Bruce was nothing but tenderness and romance. His hands were gentle and expressive, and Peter began to wonder if this is why Tony had hardly kissed him at all, knowing Bruce would be the kisser. Which just made Peter wonder about Tony even more, turning his head to watch Tony watch him.

He shouldn’t do that…it was rude. (and it had hurt his feelings a little when Tony had turned his head to watch Bruce while they were together!) but now he couldn’t seem to stop himself. 

Unless Bruce was turning his face with gentle fingers on his chin and gently urging his mouth open and kissing him again and then…

…oh and then…

…this was embarrassing. But here it was. He was making _so much more noise_ with Bruce than he had with Tony, needy whimpers and tiny broken moans, gasping (when his mouth was free.) He had stayed very still underneath Tony but now his hands were everywhere, tangling in Bruce’s hair or stroking the back of his neck or, in a bold moment he was VERY proud of, taking Bruce’s hand and moving it down to his cock. 

Why was he so bold, now? 

Was it because _Tony was watching?_

He had been a little relieved when he realized Tony wanted him face down on the bed. He had been fantasizing about sex with Tony for _so long_ \-- there was less case of nerves when he was facedown on the bed. Less pressure to do anything but lay still. 

He was equally relieved when he realized Bruce wanted him face up. He had never really thought about Bruce in that way at all, thus he had no anxiety. And besides...

That was just more time to show off for Tony.

Bruce was significantly less endowed than Tony but after the pounding Peter found himself sensitive and tender, and that made Bruce feel perfect. More importantly Bruce was pulling Peter’s legs around his waist. And *that* meant Peter could show off how bendy he could be, walking his heels up Bruce’s back one step at a time, stopping in the middle of his back (but planning to walk up to his neck.)

(But not before he turned to make sure Tony was watching.)

He moaned, but consented, when Bruce pulled his legs back down, asking him to cross his ankles, which he did. Then he grinned when Bruce rolled himself onto his back, putting Peter on top.

Oh yes, Peter could spend a _lot_ of time showing off in this _position_.

But he only had a moment for that thought to register when Bruce was turning slightly and Peter found himself in Tony’s arms again.

At least…partially. Bruce was still inside him, with one arm around his waist holding him in place, but now his back was touching Tony’s chest Tony’s hands were touching him too. In fact he was losing track of hands…

…except for one solid one, definitely Bruce’s, stroking from his navel to his collar bone slowly. “Oh god, Tony, you were right. He _is_ beautiful.”

Peter let his shoulders sink into Tony’s embrace, glowing. Oh yes, he was glowing from head to toe.

Because Tony had just _broken the rules_. Tony was supposed to stay on his side of the bed, and did he? Oh no. That means all of Peter’s performing had paid off. And more importantly _Tony had talked to Bruce about him._ Tony had told Bruce he was ‘beautiful,’ 

Did that mean…did that mean Bruce was the guest here? Because _that_ would mean that...

“Thank you for sharing him with me...” Bruce was whispering and Peter moaned loudly and reached out for the back of Tony’s head, pulling him around and kissing him hard. His heart was now pounding in his chest, Now he had no doubt.

Tony was sharing him with Bruce.

And that meant...oh yes... _ **that meant he belonged to Tony Stark.**_


	2. Beggars Would Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Peter/Tony/Bruce threeway, who is the cuddler? And who is the one who will only proceed with enthusiastic consent? I'll let you guess...

There was a distant crack of lightning and a gentle roll of thunder over the city. The fire crackled in the fireplace warming the cool room. A gentle curtain of rain fell at the window and Tony’s cock was buried deep inside him. Peter was in heaven.

Then Tony wrapped his arms around Peter’s bare chest as he moved their bodies forward on the couch. Peter’s eyes flew open in fear, then he clenched them tight. He hid his face behind his hands… tried to hide from what was coming next.

“Yes babyboy, _yes_ , let it happen…” Tony was crooning, ordering. Peter tried to remember how to breathe (not easy with Tony buried to the hilt inside him) clenching his jaw to keep from crying out.

It didn’t quite work… he yelped as he felt his legs parting. He was sitting completely on Tony’s lap, his legs on top of Tony’s legs, which mean when Tony parted his legs, Peter’s legs parted too. Peter bit his lip, _trying_ hard not to object…

…but then he felt Bruce’s hands in-between his thighs and there was simply no helping it.

“Nonono no Tony _**please**_ …”

But that was the wrong thing to say. Peter knew it as soon as the words were out. Bruce’s hands were gone, and all movement stopped. Even the thunder outside seemed to pause for a moment, measuring the meaning of Peter’s words.

“I’msorry” Peter whimpered in a tiny voice, forcing himself to open his eyes and look down at the man kneeling between his knees. Between Tony’s knees. He reached out a hand, trying to stroke Bruce’s face with trembling fingertips. He certainly didn’t want the man to _leave_ … but being with Tony so often, it was easy for Peter to remember that the word “No,” to Bruce, meant “stop.”

“No” didn’t mean “no” to Tony, far from it. Peter and Tony _did_ have a safety word, certainly, only Peter had never used it before. He never _had_ to use it. Tony had always caught that catching of the breath, that tightening of the body, that meant Peter was about to ask for a break. Tony always stayed close, and Tony always knew him well.

Peter had to lean forward to actually cup Bruce’s face, which he did. He cupped the man’s face with both hands and pulled him closer. He wanted to do what Tony had planned… he really did. 

He just wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it without protesting.

Distant thunder broke the silence. Tony nuzzled against Peter’s ear, murmuring “Tell us what you _need_ , babyboy.”

Dammit, Peter had ruined it. Tony could push him pleasantly passed his limits, but Bruce wouldn’t do _anything_ without explicit consent. And despite the fact that Peter was completely naked and sitting on Tony’s lap (with Tony buried to the hilt inside of him) Peter wasn’t sure if he could be explicit.

“I need to stop…” he said in a tiny voice.

“Nonono no don’t _leave_ …” he cried out suddenly, reaching down for Tony’s thigh and gripping it tight. He relaxed as he felt Tony grinning against the side of his face. Tony understood. Tony knew him well.

“I just need to stop… for a second…”

Tony moaned in approval and reseated himself, lifting Peter’s body with powerful hands and moving ever-so-slightly inside. Peter used the opportunity to motion for Bruce’s hand and, when he got it, moved it to encircle his erection. Bruce smiled in understanding and began stroking him gently, touching Peter’s thigh with his other hand. 

Then, for better or for worse, the talking began.

“Let Bruce _take care_ of you, baby…” Tony was murmuring, nuzzling Peter’s ear and teasing the shell with his teeth. Peter leaned against Tony’s mouth, even as he wanted to pull away from the words.

“Don’t you want to come for Daddy? Don’t you want Uncle Bruce to _taste_ you sweetheart?”

Peter closed his eyes so he wouldn’t roll them. He could live with Tony calling himself ‘Daddy.’ But ‘Uncle Bruce’ just seemed ridiculous.

“You can do it, baby. Let us make you feel good. Bruce has been waiting for so long. You can do that for us, can’t you Petiepie? Can you be a good boy for us baby?”

Tony was moving him the tiniest bit, moving Peter up and down on his lap. But there wouldn’t be more… there wouldn’t be movement until Peter complied. Peter leaned his head back and moaned in frustration. He had said “No,” and now Bruce wouldn’t do it unless he asked. And it was so _hard_ to ask…

“He wants to feel your sweet baby cock in his mouth, it feels so good when you get hard in his mouth babyboy…”

Dammit it was so much easier when Tony forced the issue…

“Come on, be a _good boy_ for Daddy…”

Peter forced himself to act. It wasn’t like they had never done this before (only that time there had been darkness and blankets and dammit Tony this time he was naked in the livingroom on the couch and that wasn’t _fair_ ) and nothing would happen until he could force himself to act…

…suddenly he reached his hand back and placed it on the back of Tony’s head, pulling the man’s mouth even closer to his ear.

“Call me your ‘good boy’ again.”

He could feel Tony grin. “You ‘re MY good boy, Peter. You’re Daddy’s GOOD boy. Now be a good boy and tell Bruce he can go down on you, let him taste you sweet boy, let him taste how SWEET you are…

That was all Peter needed. With both hands he cupped Bruce’s face and pulled him in.

But it was only sweetness and gentility for a moment. Soon Tony was fucking into him, holding Peter’s body close with one hand and the back of Bruce’s head with the other, forcing Peter to fuck into Bruce’s throat. Peter was horrified but helpless, caught inbetween the two men and their urgent need. He came with Bruce’s mouth completely surrounding him, with Tony’s strong arm against his chest, pinning him between their two bodies. He came with Tony’s mouth pressed against his ear, urging him on.

It went very quickly after that, just like he knew it would. Tony lay him down on the couch and covered him with a blanket. Bruce actually tucked him in and _kissed him goodnight._ He rolled his eyes behind closed lids. Then they disappeared together to do whatever it was that they did together, just like Peter knew they would. Peter rose from the couch and walked himself to the guest bedroom, alone and dejected.

The problem with doing it on the sofa instead of Tony’s bed… he couldn’t pretend he had accidentally fallen asleep and spend the night there. He still spend the night alone, but at least he had the smell of Tony on the pillows. At least sleeping in the guest bedroom would spare him the trial of listening to those two in the shower.

But he _couldn’t_ turn off his hearing, even with his head under the covers. Whatever they did together in the privacy of the shower, Bruce was doing it to Tony, and Bruce was doing it well. Tony certainly seemed to be enjoying himself. 

From there it happened the same way it always did. Peter heard Tony leave the shower and pad off to the lab, while Bruce took care of himself, alone. It struck Peter as a lonely practice, but Tony had assured him it made Bruce happy. (He also suggested this three-way relationship would last a lot longer if Peter didn’t ask too many questions about Bruce’s peculiar habits.) 

Then, Bruce came to check on him, just as Peter knew he would. Peter considered feigning sleep, but Bruce only woke him up to ask if he needed anything. Which was how Peter wound up being spooned in Bruce’s warm arms. Again.

“I know you wish I was Tony,” the older man whispered, and that just made it _worse_. Peter felt guilty enough, snuggling into Bruce’s arms and closing his eyes, pretending that Bruce was another man. This just made it more severe, knowing that Bruce knew it too. 

“Yeah, well, if wishes were horses…” Peter groused, trying to turn his face to the bed, hating himself for sounding like a sullen child.

“Why did you say that?” Bruce chuckled.

“It’s what you say at my… at my school,” Peter said. 

_If wishes were horses, beggars would ride._

_If turnips were daggers, I’d wear one by my side._

_If "ifs" and "ands" were pots and pans,_

_There'd be no work for tinker’s hands._

“They never taught me that one at school,” Bruce was saying cheerfully, but Peter just felt worse. Because he _hadn’t_ learned it at school. He had learned it at the dinner table from Aunt May, when he complained that there wasn’t enough dinner, or there wasn’t desert, or that he couldn’t have soda with his meal like his friends did. It made him feel all the more childish, all the more spoiled-brattyer. It was a hateful feeling.

Bruce sighed and hugged him tight, repeating the advice that Peter had heard before and still didn’t feel like listening to. Something about how Tony had assured him that “he could do better,” something to do with taking people for what they are, something about taking life as it comes, something something something. Peter couldn’t deny that Bruce was a wise man. He just wasn’t much in the mood for wisdom right now.

“Of course, you know what we _could_ do…”

Peter’s ears perked up a little as Bruce outlined his strategy, but in the end, it was just more disappointment. True, if Peter and Tony lay side by side and let Bruce suck them both off, and Bruce strategically made Peter come first, then he would be snuggling in Tony’s arms while Bruce went to work (“And I can make it last _a while_ ,” he said with a grin that Peter could hear. “I know the man pretty well.”) It would work, of course, since Bruce had already made that request, that _specific_ before. And Tony would never be the wiser.

Peter wondered if he should just say yes to be nice. After all, he knew it was Bruce’s fantasy to go down on them both in quick succession, just as it was Tony’s fantasy for Peter to ride them both in quick succession.

And really, it wasn’t as if Peter could get what _he_ really wanted. 

If he let Bruce suck Tony off, Tony would never be inside him. He longed for Tony to _come_ inside him, but as soon as Tony came inside him, it was all over. Ideally Tony would give him a good hard fuck first, then hold Peter in his arms while Bruce sucked him off… but a shower _had_ to happen between those two sex acts, and Tony _never_ came back to bed after showers. Bruce’s strategy might come the closest substitute, no matter how poor, to Peter’s dream.

Bruce was talking now, telling him funny stories about Tony, trying to cheer Peter up. But it was hard to enjoy the stories about the epic adventures the two men had before Peter was even around. Sometimes Bruce mentioned other 3rds in their relationship… sometimes Peter’s eyes went wide (Bruce wasn’t afraid to name names) but sometimes he couldn’t remember the names at all. Because he had forgotten them. Peter knew Bruce was trying to make him feel like one of the guys… like someone with insider information. To make him feel included. It didn’t make him feel included. It only made him feel random.

He pressed his face into the sheets and tried to go to sleep.

Feeling very much like the ride was almost over.

Feeling like a beggar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ONLY has a happy ending because my commenters asked for one.
> 
> See how important it is to comment?
> 
> Don't you want to??


End file.
